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A GERMAN CHRISTMAS EVE 


From “Leberecht Hiihnchen” 

by 


HEINRICH SEIDEL 

\\ 


Translated from the German by 

JANE HUTCHINS WHITE 


o © 9 1 



THE ABBEY COMPANY 
CHICAGO 








©GI.A268829 


INTRODUCTION 

B EINRICH SEIDEL, the son of a clergyman 
and author of some repute, was born on the 
twenty-fifth of June, 1842, in the village of 
Perlin in Mecklenburg. He spent a natural and 
happy boyhood in the fields and woods about his na- 
tive village, and this undoubtedly strengthened the 
love of nature that has characterized his entire life. 
As a boy he showed little taste for classical studies 
but decided talent in mathematics and natural sci- 
ences. He was accordingly sent to a technical school 
in Hannover and afterwards to the Berlin Institute 
of Technology where he was graduated with high 
honors. His early achievements were in the line of 
engineering, a profession to which he devoted him- 
self successfully for several years. During this time 
he distinguished himself by the construction of the 
immense iron roof of the Anhalt Bahnhof in Ber- 
lin, the largest on the continent. 

When only thirty-six years of age he retired 
from his profession and has since devoted himself 
entirely to literature. He ranks among the foremost 
German authors of the present day and has attained 
great popularity as a writer of short stories, the 
scene of most of which is located in or about Berlin, 


[ 3 ] 


where he has lived for many years. These stories 
possess an amiable, sunny humor that is quite ir- 
resistible and that nowhere shows itself more de- 
lightfully than in the inimitable “Leberecht Hiihn- 
chen,” his masterpiece, from which this story is 
taken. 

Leberecht Huhnchen is one of those cheerful, 
harmless souls “upon whose cradle a kind fairy had 
placed the best of all gifts, the art of being happy.” 
His freedom from envy and his keen appreciation 
of the good things of this life that have fallen to his 
share make him a worthy apostle of the “simple 
life.” 


[ 4 ] 


A GERMAN CHRISTMAS EVE 

THE INVITATION 


/ l ~V 'OME time had elapsed since I had seen my 
B friend Hiihnchen, when one day, shortly 
i ' s before Christmas, I ran across him in Leip- 
ziger Strasse. He had been shopping and was loaded 
with packages, big and little, which were hanging 
on his buttons and on his fingers and were stowed 
away in all possible places, so that in his overcoat 
he presented a decidedly swollen and puffy appear- 
ance and awakened a good-natured smile on the faces 
of all who passed him. 

His delight at seeing me was unrestrainable and 
he said at once, “You must go with me to Pots- 
damer Bahnhof where we can chat a little. ,, I did so, 
and on the way he opened as usual the sluicegates 
of conversation. “Something very extraordinary 
happened last summer,” said he, “I consulted var- 
ious architects and had two rooms added to my 
small domicile, one downstairs and one above. The 
change made it necessary for our former lodger, the 
old lady with the tooth-ache and the distinguished 
past, to move out, but in the enlarged dwelling we 
have exchanged her for something very fine, name- 


15 ] 


ly : a real live retired major. He has a small position 
with the railroad and is furnished with all sorts of 
talents. He especially enjoys telling stories of his 
past military experiences which are charmingly re- 
markable in that they never have a point. Just 
imagine when one is all attention and thinks, now 
the climax is coming, — Ach! — suddenly the story 
is finished. 

“He paints sweet little pictures for our children 
in which may be seen elegant ladies with honeyed 
charms and brave soldiers in eminently proper uni- 
forms. Heroism streams from the eyes of these 
pictured warriors and victory perches on the very 
points of their mustaches. 

“If you think this is the extent of his talents you 
are mistaken. No indeed, when the remembrance 
of old times comes over him he seats himself at the 
piano and sings in a somewhat weak but quite pleas- 
ant tenor voice all sorts of airs from operas that 
are no longer even heard of. Yes, yes, a very agree- 
able, companionable gentleman and not at all proud. 
He is to spend Christmas Eve with us, because he 
has no relatives here. And, as a counterpart to 
the major, we have also invited the old lady with the 


[ 6 ] 


distinguished past. They complement each other 
remarkably well, and his indescribable gallantry 
conjures unheard of sunshine into her face. Why, 
really, it is not in the end at all impossible that — she 
has a neat little income and the Major is still quite 

active for his years ” 

At this Hiihnchen extended first his left and then 
his right hand, as if he were introducing some one, 
then folding both hands together with an uncom- 
monly knowing look said, “Yes, yes,” after which 
he continued, “But it just occurs to me, — where are 
you to be on that evening?” I said I should prob- 
ably stay at home and moisten my melancholy 
thoughts with a lonely punch. Hiihnchen’s eyes 
fairly gleamed. “Why, of course, you will come to 
us,” said he. “Lore and the children will be de- 
lighted. Of course we shall have carp for supper 
and punch made after an approved recipe. Now, 
no objections!” I saw at once that I must accept 
and therefore agreed to go. 


[ 7 ] 


ON THE WAY 


O N the twenty-fourth of December the snow 
lay a foot deep everywhere and it was bit- 
terly cold. Hiihnchen had begged me to 
come early, so I dined at one o’clock and started im- 
mediately afterward for the station. There was in 
the city at this time, if I may so express it, a peace- 
ful unrest, and scarcely a person was to be seen who 
was not carrying something. Even the most care- 
less bachelor and the most unconscientious father 
as well as that pitiable class of people who consider 
the giving of Christmas gifts a tiresome comedy had 
at the last moment hastened to fulfill their holiday 
duties and to select something from the toy-shops 
and bazaars where at this late hour the horror of 
devastation reigned. 

Shivering with the cold, but with contentment 
in their hearts the Christmas tree venders stood in 
the midst of their diminished stock and worked off 
the few remaining unsalable trees on the late strag- 
glers. Rocking-horses that some time ago in a sad 
condition of neglect had vanished from their accus- 
tomed places now reappeared having been restored 
to a sleek condition again in the wonderful pastures 
of St. Nicholas. Healed of their wounds they looked 


[ 8 ] 


with great placid eyes from the shoulders of those 
who on this cold winter day were carrying them 
home again. 

Doll-houses of fabulous magnificence peeped out 
of great delivery wagons that were running hither 
and thither, stopping now here, now there. The 
Kremser, a light van employed by the postal authori- 
ties at Christmas, rumbled from house to house, rich- 
ly laden with treasures. Drays thundered along the 
streets or went creaking over the hard-frozen snow. 
In short, it was the reverse of the usual phrase, — and 
might have been described as the storm before the 
quiet. 

The festive unrest reached even to the railway 
train which was bound for Steglitz, Hiihnchen’s 
home. The coaches were filled with belated shop- 
pers who guarded packages of every imaginable 
shape and enormous paper bags from which 
streamed the delicious fragrance of freshly-baked 
cakes. Truly one might safely have offered a prize 
this day for the person who was carrying nothing. 
I certainly should not have won it for my arms were 
also full. Besides a box of sweetmeats for Frau 
Lore I had a cigar-holder for Hiihnchen, made of 
a goose’s skull which by means of the skillful appli- 


[ 9 ] 


cation of some paint, a pair of glass eyes and a red 
flannel tongue resembled a horrible devil’s mask. 
I knew Hiihnchen would be most enthusiastic over 
this work of art. 

For the children, Hans and Frieda, I had bought 
a book of fairy stories and a doll, pronounced by a 
feminine connoisseur “simply sweet.” So I can say 
that my Christmas conscience was as clean as the 
new-fallen snow and that I looked into the future 
with the peace that only fulfilled duty can bring. 


[ 10 ] 


THE ARRIVAL 

V ILLA Huhnchen, as its owner not without 
a touch of self-derision called the house, 
was in spite of its addition still a very tiny 
dwelling, but on this occasion it looked exceedingly 
neat and attractive in a fresh coat of paint. On one 
of the frost-covered windows appeared a peep-hole 
the size of a thaler, such as children love to make 
with a heated coin, and as I came into view an eye 
suddenly disappeared from behind it and another, 
twinkling merrily, took its place. 

The agreeable aroma of coffee greeted me as 
the door opened and with radiant face Huhnchen 
advanced to meet me saying, “Welcome, dear * 
Christmas guest ! Step into this not over-warm but 
nevertheless festal hall. We cannot overcome the 
cold of this winter though the stove has been roar- 
ing all day. The children were anxious to peep out 
and begged me for a mark-piece to make a peep-hole 
on the frosty window-pane, but I said, ‘Christmas 
comes but once a year/ and instead of a mark I pro- 
duced a thaler. ,, 

The lady with the distinguished past was already 
present and had the grace to remember me. She 
seemed on this occasion especially fixed up. All 


[ii] 


sorts of little ornaments jingled and sparkled about 
her, and a fantastic shimmer of artificial youth com- 
pletely enveloped her. She looked like a newly- 
bound volume of Matthison’s poems. As soon as 
Frau Lore and the children had greeted me, Hiihn- 
chen asked us to make a little journey from the 
North Pole, as he styled the north room to which 
I was first admitted, to the South Pole, or south 
room, which was several degrees warmer, where 
steaming coffee awaited us. 


% 


ENTER, THE MAJOR 



'HILE we were drinking our coffee the 
twilight stole in, to the great delight of 
the children, for now they knew the dis- 


tribution of the gifts would soon take place. 

After Frau Lore had lighted the lamp a creaking 
of boots was heard on the stairs, a knock, — and 
there entered a short, thick-set gentleman with a 
studiedly solemn air, as Hiihnchen announced, — 
“Herr Major Puschel!” The Major greeted the 
ladies with wonderful gallantry and as with a be- 
witching bow he kissed the hand of the elderly 
Fraulein, there spread over her face a flash of former 
beauty that made her almost attractive. 

Then after the fashion of olden times he placed 
his heels together, twisted the left point of his 
blond moustache and bowing formally to me said 
in the creaking voice so common to old soldiers: 
“When I was officer in charge of the fortifications 
at Pillau I had a comrade of your name. Only 
yesterday I was reminded of him. I was feeling 
quite wretched in the evening, for I had a terrible 
cold and feared I should be unable to share this 
little celebration with you. Then it occurred to me 
to make a glass of grog. An inner voice told me 


[ 13 ] 


that grog was the thing for my condition ; and 
strange to say this morning my trouble had quite 
vanished and I found myself uncommonly well. 
Yes.” At that he seated himself and looked about 
the company with his round, moist, blue eyes to see 
the effect of this wonderful cure. 

“Truly,” added Huhnchen, “strange things do 
happen sometimes in the case of the sick. When I 
was in Hannover a friend of mine was mortally ill 
and the doctors had given him up, when he felt 
an irresistible desire for some sour milk. His house- 
keeper was so weak as to give it to him, for she 
thought he must die anyway and might as well have 
a bit of pleasure before going. My friend emptied 
the dish, turned over on his side, broke into a pro- 
fuse perspiration and the next morning the fever 
was broken. It was not prepared to meet sour 
milk.” 

“That is just why my comrade at Pillau came 
into my mind last evening,” said the Major. “He 
was suffering from typhoid fever and the doctor 
shook his head, for the case was very doubtful. It 
happened to be on a Thursday and the cook had pre- 
pared for dinner peas, sauerkraut and pickled pork. 
When the door was opened and the odor filled the 


[ 14 ] 


room, the sick man insisted upon having some of the 
appetizing fare. They could not persuade him to 
the contrary; he would have some. But the most 
remarkable thing about it was that when they 
brought it to him he turned his face to the wall and 
would not touch it, no, would not even look at it and 
never touched a bite. Yes.” 

Hiihnchen looked at me beaming at the unex- 
pected ending, but I could not refrain from asking 
if he recovered. “Gott bewahre!” said the Major, 
“He died that very night. Yes.” 

Meantime the children had grown impatient and 
Hans brought to his father a large mother-of-pearl 
shell containing nothing but one little end of a can- 
dle. This he presented with a beseeching look in 
which his sister joined him. 

“Ja, ja, Kinder,” said Hiihnchen, “the time and 
hour have come.” Then he took the candle end 
and showed it to me with affectionate solemnity, 
saying, “You know, dear friend, how in some coun- 
tries the custom prevails of lighting the yule-log in 
the fireplace at Christmas and how afterwards the 
unburned remnant is kept to light the log of the next 
year. Now, we have no fireplace — in fact, open 
fires are not economical, for they heat the out-of- 


[ 15 ] 


doors more than our rooms — so we have introduced 
this custom, which I think no less interesting: We 
keep all the little ends of the Christmas candles in 
this shell and the whole year through we use them 
when we need a light for sealing a package or 
something of that sort. On nearly every one of the 
candles cling a few pine needles, and so we have 
through the whole year a Christmas fragrance from 
one festival to the next, and whenever a candle is 
lighted, the children shout with delight, “Why, it 
smells just like Christmas !” The last candle end, 
however, is not used, even in extreme need, but 
with it we light the next tree, and I shall now betake 
myself to the place of mysteries to perform this 
solemn ceremony.” He then left the room while 
the children danced for joy. 


[ 16 ] 


THE CHRISTMAS TREE 

.0 RESENTLY the house resounded with the 
ringing of a tea-bell, and the children 
rushed into the hall, on the other side of 
which was the room reserved for the tree. We fol- 
lowed in a somewhat more measured tempo and en- 
tered the sanctuary from which burst a glistening 
radiance. It was splendid. The children stood 
spell-bound and dared not enter the magnificent Se- 
same cave, filled as it was with sparkling treasures. 

After the eye became accustomed to the bril- 
liance the inspection of the gifts began. Huhnchen 
called my especial attention to the tree. “My dear 
friend,” said he, “it is an acknowledged fact that 
every one thinks his own Christmas tree is the most 
beautiful, and finds all others a trifle inferior by 
comparison, but you must admit that my pride does 
not altogether lack justification. Is not the har- 
mony of color that is reflected from it like soft 
music? Nor is this accidental. No. Rather is it 
the result of wise calculation and exact reflection. 
All the decorations are selected by artificial light so 
that they will be effective in the evening and they 
are combined according to the principle of com- 
plementary colors. The tree, to be sure, is a bit 


[ 17 ] 


crooked and several branches are lacking, but that 
only lends an added charm, does it not? Only a 
Philistine insists upon absolute symmetry.” Then 
he stood a while and gazed at the crooked little tree 
that looked with its gay decorations just like every 
other Christmas tree, but the expression of his face 
might have indicated that he was lost in admiration 
of the Sistine Madonna. 

Words fail me to describe the charms of the new 
doll-house, which contained everything that a real 
house could contain, all in Lilliputian size. The 
Major disclosed his treasures for the children; for 
Hans a pasteboard Arabian steed with a mounted 
hussar, but for Frieda truly a work of art, namely: 
Dornroschen lying in an arbor of roses with a knight 
dressed in sky blue bending over her, and best of 
all, one needed only to pull a string when the knight 
bent down and kissed Dornroschen exactly accord- 
ing to Uhland’s description. 

Time will not permit me to describe all the de- 
lightful little surprises that Hiihnchen and Frau 
Lore had prepared for the children; I can only say 
in their own words, “It was simply grand.” The 
candles gradually burned lower and lower till the 
little pine needles began to take fire with such a 


[ 18 ] 


sputtering and puffing that it became necessary to 
extinguish them. Then we all sat around the room 
talking familiarly till Hiinchen summoned us to the 
dining room to do justice to the carp and Christmas 
punch. 

Inspired by the punch and the agreeable com- 
pany, the Major became more and more talkative, es- 
pecially since the elderly Fraulein seemed to find his 
stories most entertaining and did not fail to say at 
close of each one, “How interesting! How remark- 
able !” But the rest of us felt at the end of each just 
as one feels when he thinks he has one more swallow 
in his glass and suddenly finds it empty. Frau Lore 
deciding at length that we had had quite enough of 
this, proposed a little music. Her suggestion was 
received with delight and in spite of all objections 
the Fraulein was persuaded to go to the piano, 
whereupon it appeared that she had brought her 
notes with her. She was not quite sure that she had, 
but after searching carefully a number of selections 
were found in her reticule. She was really quite sur- 
prised to find them and thought she must have put 
them there in a state of absent-mindedness. She 
was often preoccupied in that way. 


[ 19 ] 


ROMEO AND JULIET 
^ HILE the Fraulein and Frau Lore were 
'h ® I / } busy at the piano, poring over the notes, 
\ y the Major said to Hiihnchen, “A very 
agreeable lady. She improves on acquaintance. 
One can see that she has been much in good society. 
I suppose she leads a comfortable life?” Hiihnchen 
knowing right well what the Major was getting at 
— for on several previous occasions he had made 
various inquiries on this same point — said very in- 
differently, “Yes, I suppose so, especially since she 
has done away with the tooth-ache which used to 
plague her greatly.” 

“Tooth-ache is bad,” said the Major, somewhat 
disappointed, “I once knew a man who was very 
happy when he wore his last tooth on his watch- 
chain. He was a droll man — could do all sorts of 
card tricks and at last died with the cholera. Yes.” 
Then he suddenly assumed a very indifferent tone 
and asked in an off-hand manner: “Is she a lady 
of independent means?” Hiihnchen feeling that his 
interest was prompted by curiosity, replied, “She 
has 25000 marks invested in mortgages bomb- 
proof.” 


[ 20 ] 


“Hm, Hm,” said the Major, agreeably surprised. 
Then he became lost in thought. 

The Fraulein had meantime been singing “Ein 
Fichtenbaum steht einsam.” During the song the 
Major had fixed his unexpressive eyes upon the lady 
and twisted his moustache rather nervously. Scarce- 
ly had she finished when he broke into vigorous ap- 
plause and went to the piano bowing and scraping 
and quite exhausting himself in compliments, which 
she accepted eagerly and rewarded with a gracious 
but prudent smile. 

Glancing, as luck would have it, at one of the 
sheets of music, an expression of delight came over 
the Major’s face. “Oh, gnadiges Fraulein!” said he, 
“you have there the duet from ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ 
How often have I sung it in the days gone by, when 
I was a lieutenant! Every note is still familiar.” He 
began to sing in his thin tenor voice, and the end of 
it was that they both lost themselves in the old- 
fashioned music. It was delightful to see how ardent 
the old Major became over the tender words of the 
text, quite as a soldier should, and how victory 
gleamed in his eyes as he looked at the lady, while 
she with maidenly modesty lowered her eyes and 
blushed. They became so absorbed in the song that 


[ 21 ] 


they did not notice when Frau Lore quietly with- 
drew to see if the children were sleeping. Then, a 
little later, Hiihnchen drew me away to his work- 
room under some pretext, I know not what, and I 
went quite willingly, for this style of music is im- 
proved by distance. 

When we returned a little later all was quiet and 
as Hiihnchen softly opened the door a wonderful 
sight met our eyes. The “Palme” and the “Fichten- 
baum” of the old song had found each other and 
were standing no longer alone but holding one an- 
other in tender embrace. And as the slender palm 
towered somewhat above the thick-set fir, the former 
gently bent her head and, truly, they kissed each 
other. Then quickly drawing back in surprise, the 
Fraulein covered her face with her hands, but the 
Major proudly and victoriously took her arm in his, 
stepped forward like a hero and twisting his mous- 
tache with his left hand said, “Gentlemen, I have the 
honor of presenting to you my betrothed. Yes.” 

At last there was a point and indeed a fine one. 
I believe there is no better with which to close this 
little story of Leberecht Hiihnchen. Yes. 1 


[ 22 ] 








































































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